The Woes of Dwarves
by Signora Ted
Summary: Varric and the Inquisitor find themselves lonely and heartbroken. Dwarves stick together, right? T for language
1. Chapter 1

Varric and the Inquisitor sat in the corner brooding. Neither noticed the other's miserable state, nor did they notice that they were draining their bottles of beer in unison. They didn't notice they were staring in the same direction either.

Cullen and Raina Amell sat closely together in the centre of the pub, boldly holding each other's hands on top of the table. They shot sweet smiles to each other and laughed when Cassandra and her 'apparent' long lost lover told a humorous story together.

It made the two grumpy dwarves sick. And even more miserable.

Things had been going swell in Skyhold before the Hero of Fereldan showed up. Why, just yesterday they had physically walked through the fade with Varric's friend Hawke and a Grey Warden, and subsequently resolved the corrupt Grey Warden situation. The Inquisition was gaining on Corypheus and soon they would claim their victory.

But then Raina Amell showed up and suddenly Malika Cadash spiraled into a drastic bout of depression. Of course, nobody noticed, as the excitement of the reunion of Cullen and Raina, and then the appearance of Cassandra's old love, Stefan, overshadowed the Inquisitor and her mood. Not to mention Varric, who also suspiciously seemed low upon seeing Cassandra run into the dashing looking Stefan's arms.

That day was not a good day for the two dwarves.

It was Sera's mad cackling that brought the two rouges out of their sorrowful trance, both glancing up to see the elf poking and prodding Amell for information on the 'now King Alistair'.

"I bet she's got some good ones."

Malika turned to Varric and raised an eyebrow at his words as a reply.

"Stories I mean. I bet she's got some good stories."

Malika hummed and sighed, jealously radiating off her as she gazed at the ring on the mage's finger. _That could have been mine..._

"I suppose she would. She's travelled with the King, _and _Leliana. I mean... maker, she took down an archdemon and lived to tell the tale. What's not to admire about her? She's beautiful and witty, powerful and confident, she's got magic and... she's quite tall as well."

"I never said anything about admiring her, Inquisitor," he said, slyly. "Why admire her when I've got wonderful old you here?"

Malika let her lips tug into a small smile and then looked down to her shoes. _Wonderful old me..._

"Besides, she's not the _Inquisitor_. She's not the Herald of Andraste and the Hero of...well everywhere. I'm sensing a bit more than a little bit of admiration here, Malika. Tell Varric of your woes so we may drink them away together."

Malika snorted and shifted in her chair, as to face him properly, and leaned forward.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours. Those looks over at Cassandra's old 'friend' aren't just glances of curiousity. You ask me a question and I'll tell you if you're right, then I'll allow you the same privilage."

Both dwarves leaned in closer, staring intensly into each others eyes.

"Let the game begin, Inquisitor. Who goes first? Wait- I am. You're not just jealous of the Hero as a person, are you? You're jealous of that ring on her finger and who gave it to her."

Malika went bright red, her cheeks flaming hot as her palms began to sweat. "Yes."

"Yes, you're jealous of her as a person? Or-"

"Yes, I'm jealous of her being with Cullen. I'm jealous that she was good enough for him and I'm jealous that she gets noticed while I don't. I don't care if I sound childish but I may as well not be here if it wasn't for this damned mark and the shite that come with it. I'm jealous that he loves _her_, that he wants to marry _her._ I was foolish to think that just because I had fallen for him, that everything would come together, that he would feel the same for me, and he would whisk me away from all of this doom and gloom. I was too foolish to see that he wouldn't want me, that me being a dwarf would bother him. I was too foolish to see that his heart was still with her, even after all these years..."

There was a brief silence while Malika settled her uneven breathing, and Varric frowned. This was not the Inquisitor in front of him. This was a young Cadash girl after being broken by unrequainted love and reality. No longer was she a brave leader. Instead, she was simply his friend who was in great need of a hug.

Without hesitation, he leaned towards her and pulled her into his arm. She buried her face into his shoulder to cover her eyes. Varric was sure he heard a quiet sob. With his own feeling's bubbling in his chest, he hugged her tighter and moved his lips to place a light kiss on the crown of her head. He was grateful that they had chosen to sit near the corner of the tavern. They were just far enough from the celebratory crowd that had gathered around the main table.

Everyone was there, watching Amell challange Cullen to a game of chess. Chess with beer and the chaos that was the Inquisition's heroes was enough to bring in a crowd. Sera was now perched on the end of the table; Bull was seated on a stool that looked far too fragile to be near him; Blackwall was casually leaning against a piller with his arms crossed and a tankard of beer in his hand; Dorian was almost peering over Amell's shoulder after hitting it off with her upon their first meeting. Even Cole, Solas and Vivienne had joined the group.

Over the loud noises coming from their friends, Varric heard Malika sniff and felt her move out of his arms.

"Sorry," she mumbled, subtly wiping her eyes and straightening herself up. "I'm stupidly over emotional about this. It's not his fault. He didn't lead me on. He was clueless."

"I understand."

Malika was taken back at the emotion Varric carried with just two words. _Did he mean-_

"I think I was falling for the Seeker."

Malika's mouth formed an 'o' shape and she felt an awful feeling on guilt.

"Yeah, yeah, let me hear the laughter-"

"Varric, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry for all those times I joked about you two needing to get a room! I'm so sorry, Varric! I never realised..."

He looked at her puzzled. "Why aren't you laughing?"

She looked back at him puzzled. "Why would I be?"

"Because Cassandra and I don't have the cute cuddly relationship that you and Curly do? Can you _imagine _her speaking pleasently with me? And besides, dwarf."

"Varric, you can be cute and cuddly as well. She just never got the chance."

"Awh, Inquisitor, you'll make me blush. Let's stop with this touchy feely shit and cheer ourselves up. What do you say to ditching this place and going up to my room for some proper wine?"

Malika smirked playfully at him, raised an eyebrow and stood up from her chair. "You're not trying to get me into your bed, are you, Varric Tethras?"

He did a double take and surprisingly went bright red as Malika had done before.

"Wait- what? Andraste's tits, I didn't mean- wait, why are you laughing?"

"I was _joking_, you adorable idiot!"

"Adorable? _Adorable?_ Okay I didn't say anything about you using cute, but adorable is a bridge too far-"

He was interrupted when she rolled her eyes and tugged him up out of his seat by his coat's collar, and succeeded in shutting him up by pulling him towards her and planting a kiss on his lips. Varric's eyes went wide from the shock, until after a few seconds he slowly sank back down into his own skin and kissed her back. When they pulled away, he studied her face to try and figure out what the hell she was thinking.

"What-"

"I've never kissed anyone before," she admitted quietly. "And I think if anybody deserved one tonight, it was you. Well, and me I suppose. But what I meant was-"

This time, Varric surprised her.

* * *

_**A/N: If people want this to be more than a one-shot, lemme know and I'll work on it as a whole. Otherwise, drop a review anyway! :D**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: I got some comments on this story on Ao3 asking for more so I decided to hell with it! So here's another chapter of Varric and Malika! Leave a review if you enjoyed it pretty please :)**_

* * *

She avoided eye contact with him at breakfast the next morning. With one hand, she swirled her spoon around her bowl of porridge, and with the other, twisted one of her dreadlocks around a finger. She wasn't sure if he had noticed her strange behaviour or not; she hadn't looked anywhere near his face. She did however feel someone's eyes staring a hole in her head.

Feeling uncomfortable, she pulled the old red ribbon off her wrist and used it to pull her blonde hair up into a pony tail. Having dreadlocks made life a lot easier for her. No need for pulling and tugging at her curly strands to get rid of those pesky tangles and knots. She could have always just chopped it all off like she had done when she was fourteen, but she didn't want to have to go through the humiliation of being mistaken for a man again. People were tactless bastards.

Her hands shook as she picked up her bowl, shivers going up her spine as the spoon slid around the side making a sharp sound. She wasn't exactly sure _why _she was so jumpy and nervous. Her and Varric just shared a few kisses. That was all. That didn't mean anything, right? Butterflies attacked her insides as she recalled the night before. The more she thought about those moments, the more nauseous she felt. She even felt light headed as she stood up.

As she moved behind the table to bring her bowl back to the kitchens, she failed to notice one of the chair's legs sticking out in front of her. Ungracefully, she tripped and fell forward; her bowl and spoon going flying and landing on Sera's giant plate of toast. She braced herself for the feeling of pain and humiliation, but opened her eyes to see the floor a couple of inches from her face. Someone had grabbed her.

_Don't let it be him, don't let it be him..._

It was Cullen. And for once, instead of burning bright red as she usually would have, she sighed with relief. At that moment, she felt confused with herself. How bizarre.

"Are you all right, Inquisitor?" the commander said, his eyes full of concern as usual.

And instead of babbling, Malika pulled herself back up straight, looked at him in the eyes and smiled.

"I'm fine, Cullen. Thanks for catching me."

He frowned, obviously not convinced. "Are you sure, my lady? You seem... not like yourself this morning."

_You're telling me..._

"No, no! I'm fine, really! Don't worry, Cullen. I'm just not a morning person."

Straightening her back, Mal accidentally, out of habit, turned to see who was around her. And she looked _directly _into Varric's eyes.

_Well, fuck me, _she thought aggressively, then instantly regretted it when her mind went on overload with inappropriate thoughts. _Fuck, fuck, fuck...Stop, stop, stop..._

He wasn't looking at her with concern. Instead, there was a look of amused curiosity on his face. He was obviously finding her fascinating entertainment for the morning. His lips were curved into a smirk and had an eyebrow raised. Quickly, Mal looked away.

Clearing her throat a little too loudly, she looked down to see Sera pinching the fallen bowl between her thumb and index finger.

"Ew, you got your left over gunk all over my toast! Take it away, take it away!"

Mal caught the bowl before it hit the ground in the direction Sera had flung it. Whispering sorry into the elf's ear, she leaned over her shoulder to grab her spoon out of Sera's tea.

"You're gonna pay for that, Quizzie. When you least expect it."

With Sera's threat of doom playing in the back of her mind, Mal turned towards the kitchen.

"Not to sound like a mother hen, but _are _you okay?"

The dwarven lady almost jumped out of her skin when Varric crept up behind her. He had his own breakfast plates balanced in his left hand and was suddenly right beside her.

"Uh...Yeah, sure? I mean of course, why would I not be okay? Everything's okay. I'm okay. I think Sera's okay. Are you okay?"

If Varric noticed her nervous chatter, he didn't comment. Mal cursed herself once the words left her mouth. This was what she was like around _Cullen_, not Varric. Why was she nervous around Varric? They were friends and friends aren't nervous around each other, right? I mean, even friends who comfort each other intimately and then share a couple of kisses; that's all cool, right? _Right?_

It was obvious Varric did, however, notice her internal monologue.

"Listen, if it's about last night-"

"No, nope, nay. Why, what happened last night? Nothing happened last night? Did something happen last night?"

She was doing it again. _Maker save me now_.

"You kissed me. Last night. In the pub."

"Yeah, well then you kissed me!"

Her eyes widened when she realised how loud she had exclaimed the statement. She thanked the heavens there was no one in that particular hallway.

"Mal, I'm not quite sure where this conversation is going..."

"You're not alone with that."

A moment of silence fell between the two dwarves as they both stood opposite each other awkwardly. The only noise that filled the corridor was the sound of pots and pans from the kitchen.

* * *

"So..."

"So..."

"I don't really know how to handle these situations, Varric."

"And I do?"

"I don't know? Okay let's just... what exactly do we need to talk about?"

Varric's eyes left the ground and moved up to Mal's face, which was contorted in confusion and worry. She had a beautiful face, even though she was convinced she looked like a halla's back end. She had large blue eyes; they were what betrayed her put on emotions. One would only need to know her enough to read them. Then there was her cute little button nose, the strong jaw line, the high cheek bones, and thick brows. She didn't have them shaped like most women, but they weren't overly messy. They had a slight curve and were as dark as her brunette hair. They always highlighted her funny facial expressions.

Varric was attracted to her. And he certainly liked kissing her. He was attracted to her in a different way he was to Cassandra. Cassandra was so different to Mal. She was not shy; tackled problems head first instead of skilfully avoiding confrontations like Mal. She was aggressive, while Mal was sly. Her personality clashed with Varric's. Mal's did not. She shared his humour; getting all the stupid jokes he'd make that none of the other's would get. She would cackle like a mad women at a comment he'd make during a fight; disappearing from sight and appearing behind her enemy, laughing all the while. They would drive the others up the wall during long hikes, their pointless conversations completely lost on them.

Perhaps he was never even falling for Cassandra. Maybe he had just liked the idea of having someone in his life. He had never thought of Mal in that way. Even without her confirmation, he could see she was besotted with Cullen. There was only one time when he had... It was when he first saw her.

Through the smoke and green rift edges, he had seen her. He had never been allowed to go see her before she woke up. He hadn't cared about it either. But when he saw her that first time, her twin daggers harnessed on her back and her glove still glowing green... He had thought she was one of the most fantastic things he had ever seen. Now, as he looked into those blue eyes, he prayed to the maker he wouldn't fuck up the friendship they had built up.

"I suppose whether or not it meant something."

He cursed in his head when he saw the clueless expression on her face.

"Whether or not... it was more than just... oh Maker give me strength... if there are _feelings _involved in... this."

He cringed and thought of all the different outcomes of this situation. Hardly any of them were good. He closed his eyes a took slow, deep breaths. He wasn't even sure what _his _answer was.

With a startled look on her face, Mal almost squeaked.

"Uh... Can I get back to you about that? I've got to go... water some herbs."

Varric stared after the Inquisitor, shocked by her abrupt exit. Rubbing his hands against his forehead, he groaned.

"Balls."


End file.
